


Three Potions...New Side Effect

by LittleRedRidingDoublet (Squeakerblue)



Series: Doublets Tumblr Fills [3]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Butt Plugs, Come Inflation, Enthusiastic Consent, M/M, Marathon Sex, Prompt Fill, come addiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:14:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27643285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squeakerblue/pseuds/LittleRedRidingDoublet
Summary: Tumblr FillGeralt takes too many potions and has to fuck them out of his system. This has an unintended, but not unwelcome, side effect.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Doublets Tumblr Fills [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2021203
Comments: 10
Kudos: 258





	Three Potions...New Side Effect

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous asked:
> 
> Reading your kink list, I feel like your kinks vibe pretty much with mine. So hoping that feeling is correct how about this prompt: I read a fic where J became feral after G came inside him while still under the influence of a potion. But what if there was a different consequence? Imagine if the potion made it so J's now addicted to G's cum and thus also to his cock. They have to buy a plug to make J even able to function as normal.
> 
> Here ya go! One cum addicted Bard! 2200+ words, give or take.
> 
> Stuff the bard is a fave of mine!!

Geralt crashed through the brush, skin pale and veins black. “Jaskier… Help…” 

It was far from the first time they’d fucked to get Geralt down off a potion high, but Jaskier knew this would be different. Geralt was amazingly rough, in a good way, on one potion, let alone the three he’d said he’d have to take to deal with a small coven of bruxae. He’d never taken more than one at a time before

Black colored blood dripped from several cuts and bites, many of which were healing quickly, quicker than usual, while muscles bulged even bigger under the armor, forcing the armor to creak

“Geralt…” Jaskier knew the drill. They’d been fucking for a long time now, and burning off potions just as long. He’d already prepped himself, keeping himself well stretched and lubed throughout the night, not sure when Geralt would return. Jaskier hit his knees, presenting his ass to the feral Witcher.

Geralt managed to shove his leathers down enough to free his cock, dripping with need and covered in black veins, before he reached Jaskier. He sunk to his knees and thrust in, trusting that Jaskier would have prepped himself well. The bard had, as he sunk all the way to the hilt in one harsh thrust.

Jaskier moaned, long and loud, at the feeling and gripped the bedrolls in preparation for the harsh fuck to come. 

He wasn’t disappointed. 

Geralt began to fuck like a man possessed, chasing only his pleasure, not even making a move towards Jaskier’s cock. Jaskier didn’t mind, the Witcher’s cock was more than big enough to beat against his prostate in any position.

Geralt thrust in, over and over, growling low and nipping at Jaskier’s back and neck, more like an animal than a man. Jaskier moaned and when he could catch half a breath, praised his lover, “Fuck, Geralt… gods… so good… More… I want more…”

The words had the right effect, as Geralt slammed in and froze, cock pulsing deep inside. Jaskier moaned at the heat then again as a new feeling spread, like a warm wave all over his body. His head swam, the world tilting slightly and he felt just… so damn good. He barely noticed his own cock spurting on to the ragged old shirt he’d put down to protect the bedrolls.

Geralt began to move again, and Jaskier groaned, pressing back against him. He didn’t care that he was sensitive, he wanted Geralt to come again. He wanted that rush of full body pleasure, that swirly feeling. 

It didn’t take long for Geralt to come again, the potions always gave him even more stamina than usual. They fucked, all through the night, and Geralt finally exhausted himself just as the dawn birds began to sing.

They slept until noon, recovering and Jaskier woke to wet thighs and a sore ass. He felt good though. He rolled over, checking on Geralt. The Witcher was out of his armor, but still grimy and covered in… ick. 

Jaskier stood with a soft groan, feeling cum start to drip down his thighs. Geralt had pumped him full. He loved it. He grabbed the cooking pot and made his way to the little stream nearby fetching water to help scrub Geralt clean. Hot water worked best once the ichor dried. They weren’t far from a town and Jaskier would buy a bath there, but it helped to try to scrub the worst off first. 

Geralt stirred as he wiped him off, and sleepy golden eyes met his. Jaskier leaned down to kiss his beloved Witcher and was promptly pulled across Geralt’s lap. Geralt’s hot, hard cock pressed against Jaskier’s bare, still dripping, ass, and he suddenly, desperately wanted it inside him. 

He moved before the thought about it, sinking down on the hard shaft and pulling a moan from both of them. “Geralt… Come in me again.” Geralt smirked and let Jaskier bounce furiously on his cock, until he couldn’t stand it any longer and rolled them over, pounding into the bard furiously until he spilled again, adding to the mess. 

Jaskier sighed blissfully at the feeling, warmth in his belly, spreading through him. 

**

It took them a day to get to the town, one big enough to have a small inn and after haggling with the innkeeper, who grumpily agreed to allow them the room, they called for a bath. 

Jaskier went first, not nearly as dirty as Geralt, and scrubbed clean, inside and out. Geralt “helped” with the latter part. He toweled off with threadbare towels and flopped face down onto the bed. He was more than ready for a nap. 

Geralt was nearly done with his own scrubbing when Jaskier started to fidget. It felt like ants under his skin and he felt so COLD. It was summer, he couldn’t be cold. His hole ached, clenching down around nothing and he felt empty inside…so empty. It was all he could focus on. A whine built in his throat and he clamped down on it, even as his legs spread of their own accord. He reached a hand back, pressing two fingers to his aching, empty hole to try to soothe the desperate need, but it didn’t help, only made it worse.

The scent of distress had Geralt turning in the bath, seeing Jaskier with two, no… three fingers in his ass, even as Geralt heard him start to whimper. “Jaskier?”

“Geralt, it hurts! I’m…its not enough… I’m empty and it hurts.” Jaskier sobbed, tears filling his eyes. The empty feeling was spreading, moving from his hole towards his chest. “Geralt!”

Geralt clambered from the bath, heedless of the water dripping everywhere and moved to the bard’s side. Distress and need, tinged with desperation rolled off the man on the bed, who spread his legs wider, displaying his reddened and stretched hole.

“Geralt, get in me, please.” Jaskier pulled his hand out of his ass, leaving the hole gaping slightly, and reached for Geralt’s half-hard cock. His cock rose in response to the bard’s touch, just like it always had, and the need and desperation smell overwhelmed the distress. 

Geralt grabbed the oil from the bedside table, the first thing they unpacked at any inn, and quickly slicked himself up, sliding two fingers into Jaskier to get him ready. Jaskier pushed back insistently and Geralt took the wordless plea to heart. 

He corked and tossed the bottle back to the table and pulled Jaskier to his knees, pressing in. There was no resistance and he had to actively hold Jaskier to keep him from impaling himself. The distress scent vanished, as did the desperation, leaving only need and desire. The shifting scents were met with Jaskier reaching back, swatting at Geralt’s hip. “Move! Fuck me, Geralt, fill me up.”

Geralt did so, fucking the bard thoroughly until he came. The change was immediate.

Jaskier relaxed all over, a blissed expression sweeping across his face. Jaskier didn’t come from being fucked alone, but moaned happily as Geralt stripped the hard cock until the bard’s come spilled over his fingers.

Geralt pulled out, and returned with a wet cloth, cleaning the leaking come from Jaskier’s hole before curling up with him to nap until dinner. He tossed the damp rag aside on the table.

**

Geralt woke to Jaskier riding his cock, the scent of desperation all over him again. “Come… Geralt, want your come… your cock… please…” Geralt came quickly, practically before he was fully awake, Jaskier clearly having been at it for a while. 

Instantly the bard relaxed, like a puppet with his strings cut and Geralt frowned, even as he cuddled the bard close, still lodged on his cock. His mind was whirring and he didn’t sleep much that night. 

They left town the following morning, and it was only a few hours down the trail before Jaskier was shaking and sweating again, begging for cock and come. After the third stop the fuck the bard, not truly a hardship, but time-consuming, Geralt reached for a cloth to clean him and paused. Every time the bard was cleaned, he got twitchy within a few hours, begging to be filled up again. 

Instead of cleaning the bard up, Geralt took a bit of cloth and wedged it between Jaskier’s cheeks keeping the come that leaked out contained, at least partially. 

It works, for the most part, and while Geralt loathes doubling up on Roach, it’s faster, and he thanks the gods they’re not far from a large town with a rather peculiar witch who made all sorts of useful items. 

They arrive in two days, Jaskier needing to be fucked twice a day as they traveled. Geralt had tested his theory, cleaning Jaskier up well inside and leaving him on Roach. It had taken four hours before the shaking and shivering had started, and within half an hour after that, the begging. Geralt let it go on for another half hour but stopped when the bard started crying, clenching his stomach and pain suffused his scent. The smell of pain eased the instant Geralt entered the bard, and vanished completely when Geralt came, coating the inner walls of his lover. 

Geralt led Roach around the village to the witch’s hut and knocked on the ramshackle door. A middle-aged woman answered the door with a shout that cut off mid-sentence. “What ya–Geralt!” The woman flickered and a much younger woman stood in her place. “It’s been a while, come in! Come in! Who’s this?” She waved them in, leading them past a closed door into a much nicer, more spacious room. One that wasn’t visible from outside the small shack. He knew most of the building wasn’t.

“Ingred, this is Jaskier. Jaskier, Ingred. We have a bit of a problem.” He briefly described the problem, Jaskier’s sudden near dependence on Geralt’s come and his reaction when deprived of it. Jaskier blushed throughout the explanation and Geralt was very glad he’d discussed it on the way.

“Hmm… Let me look him over.” She moved to the bard, hands glowing, and ran them from head to toe. “Ah… This is interesting. He’s addicted, actually fully addicted to your come, and likely your cock as well. You said the pain eases as soon as you enter him?” Geralt nodded. “Well, I can’t remove the addiction, whatever caused it is firmly in his system.”

She looked at Jaskier. “We could send you through a detox, but I’m not sure if that would even work. I’ve never seen this before. It could work, it could not, or it could kill you.” 

“Keeping the come in seems to help,” Jaskier said, shifting slightly. “But cloth sucks.”

“It does…” She hummed to herself. “Come with me.” She led them to another door, this one painted red, and inside was one of the largest collections of sex tools Jaskier had ever seen. They followed Ingred through the room to a small table filled with a variety of oddly shaped objects. 

“These are plugs, they can keep Geralt’s come inside you, all day. I can spell them to be comfortable, and flexible, so you can move as you would normally.” Jaskier blushed and Geralt wrapped an arm around him. She continued. “You’d need a… hmm… dose… every day. At least one. No more pain though.”

Jaskier blushed more, ducking his head and looking away.

“Jaskier,” Geralt said, pressing his forehead to his lover’s. “I don’t want you hurting. Please…”

He was cut off when Jaskier looked at him, eyes blown wide, and boldly took the Witcher’s hand, pressing it to his cock, which was fully hard. “I am definitely not opposed. I suppose this means I winter with you in Kaer Morhen now?”

“Or I stay in Oxenfurt.” 

“Ugh, no. Kaer Morhen. Valdo drives me crazy in the winters and I can’t get away from the ass.” He looked at Ingred. “So… how do we fit them?”

**

Hours later, they left the shack, Ingred waving goodbye to them. A small sack of gold had been handed over, but Ingred took part of her payment in watching Jaskier learn to take the slim plugs, along with Geralt fucking load after load into him. They’d offered to bed her, but she’d politely refused, telling them her memories would work quite well for a long time. She told them to come back next time they were in the area and she’d make a few custom pieces. 

Jaskier walked along, pain-free and feeling light as a feather. His belly was just slightly rounded from all the come inside him and the plug kept it well settled. It was comfortable, flexible, and he could wear it all day, or night, without hurting himself. 

That night, when they camped, Jaskier stripped down and settled over Geralt’s bare lap, right over his cock. “You know the other spell Ingred put on this?” Jaskier reached behind him and pulled the plug out then slid himself onto Geralt’s cock. “It lubes me up too.”

“Dose me up, Wolf.” And Geralt did. Multiple times.

**Author's Note:**

> Give me more stuff to do!
> 
> https://little-red-riding-doublet.tumblr.com/


End file.
